CHATBOT: INT. ESTELLE'S APARTMENT - DAY A hazy, dimly lit room with a touch of vintage elegance. ESTELLE PREISIG, a strikingly beautiful woman in her late twenties, confidently rolls herself in a sleek motorized wheelchair. Her adapted apartment, though cramped, exudes an artistic flair with carefully curated decorations. Estelle is dressed in baggy and unappealing clothes, camouflage for her scars. She rolls towards a full-length mirror mounted on the wall, her eyes fixed on her reflection. There's a mixture of determination and vulnerability in her gaze. ESTELLE (whispering) You didn't break me. You won't break me. She reaches behind her back and starts unbuttoning her shirt, progressively revealing her scarred body. Importantly, her hands tremble slightly as she exposes her vulnerability. Estelle's scars decorate her torso and arms, permanent reminders of her past. She sends a silent curse to her doctors. ESTELLE (angry) They wanted their fame, their breakthrough. They used me, turned me into a mere case study. Her voice, laced with frustration, carries a blend of defiance and sadness. Estelle takes a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the mirror. She taps into her confidence, the resilience fueling her spirit. ESTELLE (confident) But I am more than their science experiment. I am beautiful, scars and all. She holds her wheelchair steadier, sits up straighter, and starts experimenting with alluring poses, as if she were modeling for the world. Each pose is a defiance against the narrow judgments of society. ESTELLE (whispering) Confidence is half the beauty. My face, my hair, they are mostly intact. I am still me, no matter what they took from me. She wheels herself towards a spacious wardrobe, filled with an array of fashionable clothes. Estelle's hands run over the fabric, contemplating her attire options. She wants to feel stylish, to express her individuality, hiding nothing but emphasizing her strength. ESTELLE (planning) Today, it's time for fashion to embrace me. I'll cover what I need to but leave the rest daringly exposed. She selects an ensemble - a flowing dress that artfully covers her lower torso, ensuring her stoma bags remain concealed. But she chooses a daring top that exposes her upper torso and arms, inviting the world to see her scars. A choice, an act of defiance. ESTELLE (smiling) Let the world see what I've been through. I am still beautiful, still alive. With a sense of determination, Estelle wheels herself towards the mirror, trying different ...

CHATBOT: INT. FANCY COFFEE SHOP - DAY The atmosphere is sleek and modern, with soft lighting casting a warm glow across the room. ESTELLE PREISIG, a stunning woman in her late 20s, sits at a table by the large window. She wears a fashionable outfit, a carefully tailored dress that covers her lower torso, elegantly concealing the stoma bags beneath. However, her scars on her chest and arms are still partially visible, a reminder of her past. Enter DOBROMIL LAUWENS, mid-30s, confident and smooth, as he approaches the table. He stops for a moment, taken aback by Estelle's changed appearance, but quickly regains his composure. DOBROMIL (smiling) Estelle, darling, you certainly know how to make an entrance. ESTELLE (slightly irritated) Dobromil, please spare me the pleasantries. We both know this meeting wasn't planned to catch up on old times. They exchange a cool look, tension hanging heavy in the air. DOBROMIL (defensively) Well, you're the one who suggested we meet, Estelle. I thought you wanted closure. ESTELLE (sarcastically) Closure? Is that what you called it when you left me, Dobromil? A letter, without a single word of explanation? DOBROMIL (sighs) You know how difficult things were for me at that time. I didn't know how to handle it all, and I thought distancing myself would be easier. ESTELLE (bitterly) Easier for you, maybe. But what about me? Did you ever consider how I felt? How it felt to wake up in that hospital bed, missing both my legs and parts of my pelvis? DOBROMIL (casually) Honestly, Estelle, it wasn't the first thing that crossed my mind. I was more concerned about losing the woman I loved. Estelle's eyes narrow, anger simmering beneath her composed exterior. ESTELLE (angry) You're unbelievable, Dobromil. You ignore the fact that I'm scarred, disabled, and confined to this wheelchair. DOBROMIL (smiling) Because it doesn't matter, Estelle. Your personality, your spirit, that's what drew me to you in the first place. And you're still beautiful, despite everything. Estelle scoffs, deeply offended by Dobromil's misguided compliment. ESTELLE (frustrated) How dare you! Helplessness and vulnerability should never be seen as attractive qualities in a person, especially not in a woman! You have no idea what it's like to lose control of your own body! DOBROMIL (coolly) Perhaps not, Estelle. But I've always prided myself on honesty, even when it's uncomfortable. Just remember, not everyone would react as understandingly as I have. Estelle looks at Dobromil...